He stood up and took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Then. Give me. The reason,” he said, his voice hard.
“You do not want to hear it.” She crossed her arms, taking a step back. “I promise you that.”
“Tell me,” he growled.
“Fine. For me to smile more, and seem less guarded around you, I would have to trust you. Feel safe with you.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air. “This relationship is purely transactional: I give you blood, and you ensure that I stay alive and give me gold every week.”
“Purely transactional?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
Gesturing between them, she said, “We are just…” Heat rose to her cheeks. “Giving in to mutual physical attraction. Nothing more.” She paused and looked away.
Clearing her throat, she glanced back at him. “Giving in to temptation. Why must feelings be a part of it?”
“Because I want you. To care for me,” he growled.
She snorted. “I can’t force myself to fall in love with you. I’m attracted to you, intrigued by you even. But feelings of care and love? They can’t be forced.” He scowled, and she leaned forward. “You want honesty, Caspian? You feed off me like aparasiteand drink blood in front of me every night at dinner, yet you still have the nerve to ask me why I don’t feel safe with you? Why I don’t trust you and bare my heart to you?”
He flinched as if she had struck him.
She straightened her sleeves. “I enjoy our time together, but as long as you feed from me, the power dynamic between us will be as such. I’ll always be on my guard, always wondering if there will come a day when you come to ask me for blood, and your control snaps.”
Caspian looked like he wanted to say something, but she cut him off before he could open his mouth. “Let us not complicate things.” She paused. “Please? I’m enjoying my time with you. My heart doesn’t need to be a part of it.”
Caspian said nothing, his expression wooden.
After a moment of hesitation, she curtseyed deeply. “Thank you for a beautiful evening.”
She smiled politely and went back inside.
***
A few hours later, there was a knock at her door.
It was with great trepidation that she opened it. Caspian was there, his clothes sopping wet, and his hair was stringy and damp. “What if I don’t ask you for blood this week?”
“What? Why are you wet?” she asked, eyeing his soaked shirt suspiciously.
“I went for a long walk in the grounds. It started pouring right after you left,” he said, running his fingers through his damp hair. “What if I don’t come for blood this week?” he repeated.
She crossed her arms. “I would like that.”
“Good,” he said tersely.
She considered his words, then blurted, “Wait. I signed a contract that states I will give you blood every week in exchange for my protection. You are oath-bound to feed from me. I won’t have you say that I failed to uphold my end of the bargain.”
He looked at her strangely and was silent for a long moment. Finally, he frowned and said, “The contract states that you mustofferme blood.” He paused. “Perhaps you offer, and I come to see you when I am not hungry, and my hunger has already been sated.”
“Why?” She tilted her face to his. “Why would you do that?”
“Because—” His gaze softened, vulnerability flickering across his features as he leaned in a fraction. “Because I cannot get you out of my head.”
She didn’t know how to make sense of the conflicting feelings in her heart, so she simply said, “Okay.” and opened the door wide.
***
Elizabeth was in a lovely mood the next day, on a high from her night with Caspian. They had slept together again last night, this time slow and romantic, and in satin sheets. Her heart was full of music, and she swayed contentedly, humming one of the songs that played last night in the ballroom.
When she came back to her chambers after her morning ride, she saw a stack of envelopes on her writing desk. One was her weekly letter from Charlotte, andthe second was addressed to her in elegant calligraphy. When she turned it over, the wax seal was light blue with a bird embossed in the center.
